Smoking Hearts: A First Date With A Competitive BBQ Champ
As a lifelong resident of Central Texas, I know how seriously people take their BBQ here. It’s practically a religion, and the pitmasters are revered like rock stars. So when my friend introduced me to a man we will call Marc, who is a pitmaster that competes in BBQ competitions all over the state, I couldn’t believe my luck. Despite being a little larger than I typically look for, he was charming and funny, with a warm smile that lit up his whole face. Regardless if it turned romantic, I knew right away that I was interested in getting to know him better.
We exchanged numbers and started texting back and forth. He really was a funny guy, and always seemed to be smoking meats, but it wasn’t until a chance encounter at Office Depot that we made plans for a first date. He was picking up some supplies for his construction business, and I was browsing the printer section when I heard his voice. We struck up a conversation, and before I knew it, he had invited me over to his house to watch him smoke some brisket and ribs.
I was nervous as I drove over to his house later that week. I had never been on a date with a pitmaster before, and I knew that they took their BBQ seriously. What if I didn’t like the food? Would he be offended? And what if his kids didn’t like me? All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head as I pulled into his driveway, which felt like a set for a TV show on the Food Network. There was a giant park bench, several small grills and barrel drum smokers, but then there was his big competition smoker, which he repeatedly had referred to as “Big Red”. Yup, he was Texan through and through.
I couldn’t help but be impressed by Big Red’s massive size, although I hoped he wasn’t compensating for something. The sweet smell of smoke wafted through the air, making my mouth water with anticipation. Despite my nerves, I took a deep breath and approached his door. It was time for my first date with a bona fide BBQ pitmaster, and I had no idea what to expect.
As I stood nervously on his doorstep, my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the smoker in his yard, still billowing smoke. Suddenly, the front door creaked open and there stood Marc, the pitmaster. I was taken aback by his size; he was a big guy, with a girth that made me wonder how many pounds of brisket he had tasted in his life. But his warm smile and infectious sense of humor immediately put me at ease.
“Cherry! You made it!” he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. “Come on in, I’ve got something I want you to try.” And with that, he gestured for me to follow him into the house.
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We stepped into the house, where I immediately heard the sounds of video games and giggling coming from the living room. Marc called out to his kids, and they came running to greet us. They were cute, no doubt about it, but they were also wild and unruly. The youngest one, a little girl with pigtails, immediately attached herself to my leg, begging me to play with her. The two boys were running around, shouting and laughing, completely ignoring their father’s requests to settle down.
Marc kept trying to corral them, but they seemed to have minds of their own. At one point, he turned to me and asked for my help in getting them to behave. I was taken aback. This was our first date, and I wasn’t exactly prepared to be a babysitter. But I tried to help out as best as I could, playing games with the little girl and trying to get the boys to sit down and watch a movie. It was a bit of a disaster, but at least I could say I tried.
As we walked through the door, the sweet smell of hickory smoke enveloped me, causing my stomach to grumble with anticipation. Marc led me through the living room and into the kitchen, where I saw plates of ribs and brisket waiting for us on the counter.
“I’ve been smoking these babies all day,” he said proudly. “They’re my secret recipe, passed down from my granddaddy. I guarantee they’re the best you’ve ever tasted.”
And he was right. The meat was tender and juicy, with just the right amount of smoky flavor. As we ate, Marc regaled me with stories of his adventures on the BBQ circuit and his work as a construction company owner, his deep laugh filling the room. I found myself laughing along with him, feeling more and more comfortable in his presence.
As the evening wore on, Marc’s kids made their presence known, running through the house and shouting at the top of their lungs. Marc was clearly frazzled, trying to keep them under control while also keeping up with his constant stream of messages from work. But even in the chaos, he remained good-natured, his sense of humor never faltering.
By the end of the night, as I said my goodbyes and headed back to my own home, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and connection to Marc. He was a man with a big heart, a passion for his craft, and an infectious spirit that I knew I wanted to experience again. Unfortunately, we never got the chance, as Marc died from heart disease literally one week after our date. His kids went to go live with his sister, and I heard the family made the choice to go vegan. That may be over correcting, but hey, I’m never one to judge.
